


welcome home duckling

by lostalongtthewayy



Series: whatever it takes [7]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Captain Swan - Freeform, Daddy!Killian, F/M, Fluff, Future Fic, Gen, SO MUCH FLUFF, and getting a name, baby's coming home, cs family, cs fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-07-19 03:34:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7343134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostalongtthewayy/pseuds/lostalongtthewayy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>CS + taking BabyDuckling home + babe’s lil nook</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Emma stood right outside the little room that was now the baby’s nursery. It was a sloped ceiling bedroom, not really that big, but instead the perfect cozy little spot for the baby. 

The crib was white, as was most of the baby’s furniture. The splash of color came from the bits and pieces Emma had recovered from her very own nursery —the one she hadn’t gotten to use way back when, but that now belonged to her baby daughter.

She’d managed to recover among some other things, that very same Unicorn mobile that was supposed to hang over _her_ crib once upon a time. Now it hung over her daughter’s crib and if anything, it made Emma smile. She touched gently one of the delicate glass unicorns, remembering her mom’s smile when she’d seen it over the crib a few weeks ago. She’d smiled fully, finally seeing that mobile in good use.

This time there was no curse threating them; there was no one trying to steal her daughter, or really any reason why Emma felt her daughter’s best chance was anywhere but right here with her and their family.

It felt right.

Not everything about this pregnancy had been easy —at all, she’d had the worst morning sickness in history for one thing, but…

But all of that had been nothing in comparison to that perfect little thing she’d gotten in return —her daughter. _Their_ daughter —hers _and_ Killian’s.

It made Emma smile, even to this day —how of all people, of all fairytale characters, she’d chosen to spend the rest of her life with no other but _Captain Hook_.

The so-called petrifying, coldblooded pirate that had melted and fallen in love with their daughter the very instant he laid eyes on her.

Killian was here by her for all of it, every noise and coo from that child, he was there. There was nothing in this world that could keep him from his baby and that was just a fact.

Emma’s blood ran cold every time she remembered how very close they were to not having any of this. (Killian’s did too)

However, the memories, their experiences and past heartaches, truly did make them appreciate _this_ , their daughter, their family with her and Henry, all the more.

Life was good right now. (And Emma wasn’t even _that_ scared to think that —or even say it aloud) Tomorrow still wasn’t promised, but she knew it wasn’t just _her_ fighting tooth and nail for their family and future, it was _them —_ and that made hell of a difference. 

* * *

Besides the unicorn mobile, some oversized stuffed animals also brought some color to the baby’s nursery. It’d be at least a couple of months until Emma would let the babe sleep in here by herself, but having everything ready for her was nice. Especially considering how early the little baby had decided to join them. It was nice to know they had been prepared regardless.

Just then, as Emma stepped out of the nursery, she smiled watching Killian walking upstairs with that daughter of hers in his arms. The baby had woken up during the ride home from the hospital, she’d whimpered and cried for all of three minutes until they got her out of her car seat and Killian set with her on the couch snuggling her to his chest.

That child owned him —completely. And the truly incredible thing, Emma loved it. She loved how tender Killian was with the baby, how he tried so hard to do just the right thing and touch her or hold her just the right way. —Not that Emma thought there was such thing as a wrong way to do so, but she knew Killian did think so. He was meticulous, and careful — _overly_ careful, and there was never anything other than pure love in his eyes every time he held their daughter.

Emma came upstairs supposedly to change clothes into something more comfy. However, she’d gotten distracted by the baby’s nursery and hadn’t done any of what she’d intended. It didn’t really matter though; especially given that goofy grin Killian was wearing as he moved to stand in front of Emma. “She’s awake, love,” He said then excitedly, hardly keeping in a laugh that so badly wanted to escape. “Look, she’s like, _really_ awake,” At last, he thought, and couldn’t help beaming with absolute pride when Emma peeked at the little bundle in his arms. She smiled —her heart melting right then and there at the sight of their child’s deep blue eyes.

She was awake all right; a look of almost cautiousness in her tiny face as her little eyes looked about her brand new surroundings. To think in a few months that same little bundle would be crawling around that very same hallway they were standing. That thought brought Emma a warm rush of _hope_ to her belly _._ Her mother would be proud.

“Welcome home _Estella…”_

Emma’s words came in an overwhelmed whisper, her eyes on her daughter and one of her hands tenderly cradling her small head. Emma leaned in to Killian’s side a little more and kissed the baby before looking up at him.

He was looking down at her too — _at them_. His look was soft on her and Estella, a tight-lipped happy smile on his face. He was taking in their little family, and he should —Emma herself could just barely believe it herself. “Wanna show her her room?”

Killian stared at her, thinking, before just shaking his head. “No,”

“No?”

A playfully eyebrow shot up; and again he shook his head. “No, our bedroom first.”

Emma looked at him confused, but in the end just shrugged and started in the direction of their room. The second floor had four bedrooms, the master, two full size ones, and the little one they’ve used for the nursery. Theirs was at the far end of the hallway.

“Oh,” Emma’s breath was caught as soon as she walked in the room and took it in. “Who did this?”

Killian followed closely behind her, his arm steadily supporting the baby’s bum, while his hand rubbed small circles over her tiny back. He couldn’t stop himself from smirking when Emma turned his way. “Ah, well, yours truly of course,”

“Um?” Emma was far from caught on; the last time she’d seen their room had been three days ago, right before they headed to the hospital for Estella’s birth.

Back then, three lousy days ago, that little corner of their room she was looking, had been positively bare. That had certainly changed now.

“You did order me to come home yesterday for a few hours,”

Emma looked at Killian as if he were crazy. “To finally get some sleep!” She told him, but there was not a bit of edge to her words.

As a matter of fact, she was grinning and even more so when Killian had the nerve to just shrug.

“Well, I didn’t listen,” He answered smugly. “I did try to rest love, but it wasn’t working,” He added, making Emma’s look soften on him.

“I kept thinking how much the little lass likes it when we hold her, so I thought we needed a rocking chair here too, don’t you think love?”

“Well yeah but…” But nothing, really. Emma’s voice trailed off as she took in what he’d done with that corner in their room. Killian hadn’t just brought in any rocking chair, he’d made the perfect little corner for their daughter and she loved it.

She loved _him_ for it.

“Come here Estella,” Emma cooed then, carefully taking the baby from Killian, cradling her securely in her arms. The baby’s face scrunched up a little when she took her. Emma shushed her, bouncing her slightly in her arms before Estella could as much as let out one cry. “Look what Daddy made for you, ducky,”

At that, Killian couldn’t help huffing out a little laugh. “ _Daddy_ ,” He echoed Emma’s words softly, mostly to himself, but Emma heard him, smiling at him on cue.

Playfully one of her eyebrows shot up, watching him. “You don’t want her to call you _Hook_ , do ya?”

“No,” Killian sighed, the eye roll immediate. “Not particularly, love,”

Emma was enjoying this _so much_ —she was grinning at him smugly, but more so contently. So this was how life without a crisis felt like, huh? She honestly couldn’t complain. Not one bit.

She nodded at Killian. “Okay, then _Daddy_ it is,” She said, before rethinking her words a little. “At least until the teenage angsty years hit and she wants nothing to do with us,”

Killian looked almost offended at those words. “That is _not_ going to happen to Estella, Swan,”

Emma wanted to laugh, badly, but instead she indulged him with a smile and a nod of her head. “I know, I know…” She said, her eyes trailing down to the baby in her arms. “You’ll always gonna be Daddy’s girl, huh?” She said in a whisper, before finally sinking into the rocking chair. A little moan escaped her immediately —she’d been standing way too long and the chair couldn’t be comfier.

She relaxed in the chair, closing her eyes for a few moments, rocking Estella, and just breathing in deeply and slowly.

Killian was smiling at her and the baby when Emma opened her eyes. She looked at his handiwork again, and matched his smile. Everything he’d done was wonderful. “This is perfect,”

“You like it, Swan?”

That little tremble in his voice nearly melted her —she couldn’t believe he had to even ask her that. But Emma wasn’t going to be one to deny him this, not today when they were _home_ and their little girl was finally here with them. “You are joking,” She said with playful wide eyes. “I love it, it’s amazing,”

“Aye, I’m glad,” His tone was solemn, but happy all the same. “After I brought the chair here I figured we would need something to read her when she gets a little bigger so I brought some books,” Killian said, gesturing to the small stack of books by the feet of the rocking chair. “But then I thought she’d get bored easily reading the same five books over and over so I figured we could use a small shelf so she could have a greater variety of books,”

“And toys,” Emma chimed in, looking at the three white cubbie shelves filled with yeah, _mostly books._

Killian smiled sheepishly, his hand reaching up to scratch the skin behind his ear. “Well, just a few stuffies and blankets Swan, we can’t have her think every room is a playroom right?“

“Of course not,” Emma said back, again happily indulging him. “What about that basket then?”

“Oh,” Killian’s eyes shift to the basket he’d set next to the rocking chair. “Those are just necessities. Estella is still a wee one, but she needs so much, you know that —so there’s nappies, and lotion, and those green things she appears to love,”

“Pacifiers,” Emma supplied. “And yeah, she does seem to like ‘em,” A nurse let Estella suck on a green binky at the hospital which was fine —up until they tried to take it from her and the baby had _truly_ wailed for the first time since she was born. Needlessly to say they let her have the binky back —’ _anything for you, little love,_ ’ Killian had promised back at the hospital as he soothed the baby with the pacifier. Not even three days old yet, and Estella already knew how to get her Daddy to do just as she pleased.

Oh, they were going to be in trouble in a few years for sure.

“What do you say Estella? Daddy did a great job, didn’t he?” Her attention was completely on Estella now, the baby was blinking slowly, looking up at Emma, and it was again in that moment that Emma felt like pinching herself. There was no way Estella was hers. There was no way she’d gotten so damn lucky as to make _another_ perfect little human. This time with the man she loved. No, there was no way this was her life.

And yet…and yet here Estella was, bright blue eyes that matched Killian’s perfectly, looking up at her as if she were her whole world.

Little did she know, _she_ was their very whole world in some ways. “He did,” Emma nodded, leaning to kiss Estella before looking up at Killian. “Thank you,”

“You are welcome,” Killian’s voice came breathy and happy. “Really, I just thought she needed her own little space in our room, don’t you think?”

And there was the softy in him Emma truly loved more than air. “Oh yeah, sure,” She agreed, smiling brightly. “Although, she could have done without it for a few days. You needed your sleep, you know? She’s not great at sleeping yet so you should’ve counted your blessings and used up that time to rest,”

Immediately at her words, Killian was shaking his head decisively. “Nonsense Swan, Estella’s little nook is far more important and pressing than sleep,”

Emma was going to argue that, because he _should have slept_ , but… “ _Estella’s little nook_ —I like that,”

“Um?”

He was scratching his ear again, completely confused by her sudden change in tone and manner. It was adorable. “I like the way that sounds, it has a nice ring to it,” Emma explained. “We can definitely call it that — _Estella’s little nook_. She’ll love it growing up so much,” Emma said with absolute certainty. She just knew her words to be true.

Growing up, Emma was rarely, _if ever_ , allowed in her foster parent’s rooms.

It brought her such a warm feeling to know her daughter was not only wanted and welcomed in her room with Killian, but on top of that, she now had her very own space — _her little nook_.

It really was perfect.


	2. morning ducky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> cs au week | day 6: another time period | future cs family | fluffy Sunday morning

It was Sunday morning. Lazy Sunday morning. The kind Emma couldn’t remember having in quite a while. She stretched sleepily in bed, surprised to find Killian still soundly asleep by her. He was an early riser by nature —a trait of his that would be almost annoying to her if she didn’t love him so much.

Good thing she did love him so much, and she didn’t care. He used to always be up before her —sometimes she’d be up a Sunday to find an empty spot on the bed next to her and a sexy as hell dashing ex-pirate watching her from his favorite spot by the window.

The horizon, Emma would always think. He could spend hours and hours watching the tranquility of the horizon. The water in the distance, the birds flying beautifully above them. It was a marvel to him. Waking up every day and be witness to the beauty in the world.

And then there was Emma. She loved to sleep in. It was a treat to her, just staying in bed until she was _truly_ not tired anymore. She would sometimes even have her morning cocoa in bed. She liked allowing herself to be lazy and sleepy at least that one day every once in a while.

They had a baby now though —the most perfect and wonderful little baby in the world. Yet a wonderfully precious baby that didn’t like to sleep in at all.

Ever since Estella was born, sleeping past seven in the morning was the rarest of occurrences. She was an early bird like Daddy, and while Killian would grin with pride at that, Emma would sulk.

She missed her lazy mornings, but all the same, she didn’t begrudge Estella for it. It always took half a look at her smiley morning self to push aside all of Emma’s morning grouchiness. Estella always woke up ready to start the day; bright blue eyes, dimpled smile, perfectly messy bedhead, and the sweetest disposition that melted Emma’s heart in a beat.

They’ve tried taking turns at some point; Killian would grab Estella Sunday mornings, and let Emma sleep. Emma had been happy with the arrangement —maybe even _too_ happy, but then Sunday morning rolled about and from her bed she would hear Estella’s giggles or cries from downstairs. She would hear bits and pieces of Henry’s and Killian’s morning conversations as they made breakfast.

She would hear them and suddenly staying in bed seemed _so_ stupid. She was Emma Swan, the savior, her life was a constant stream of crises, —one right after the other, and she, of all people, couldn’t just waste a perfect family Sunday morning just so she could pretend to sleep for an extra hour or two.

So she would come downstairs, to her family, and that was usually that. Who cared about sleep anyway…

This morning however, she woke up on her own, relaxed and most importantly, _rested._ She turned on her side to the bedside table; the alarm clock showed it was well past nine am. Emma rubbed her eyes trying _hard_ not to jump to conclusions and panic. Maybe Estella had been a little extra tired this morning. Or maybe she’d woken up but stayed quietly playing in her crib.

Emma then grabbed Estella’s baby monitor and pressed the button on top bringing the screen to life. Needless to say, her heart went from beating steadily to harshly thumping against her chest at the sight of an empty crib. She’d been already pushing back the covers in a rush to check on Estella, when a heavy arm sprawled across her lap and stopped her.

Emma grunted, hurrying to move Killian from her, but then caught sight of his sleepy eyes blinking at her. He shook his head, clearing his throat. “She’s there, shush, don’t wake her,” His voice was hoarse, overly sleepy, but also playful.

Emma frowned, looking at the spot he was pointing at now. It was Estella’s corner, and on the floor, sprawled out holding onto her favorite blanket, Estella herself. Emma felt as though she could breathe again at the sight of her. She relaxed, sinking back on the bed, and looking at Killian. “You brought her in here?” She asked him.

Killian shook his head. He’d woken up a little after six that morning, he’d walked to and from the bathroom half sleep, not really ready to start the day yet, but then before he’d been able to settle back in bed, his eyes had been caught by Estella in her little nook.

She was just about eighteen months old now, still very much _their_ baby but also very much a toddler in every other sense. She’d been walking for months, and attempting to run for at least a couple of weeks.

Estella was a mobile toddler now –so busy, and always on the go. A month ago or so, Killian figured it was time for an upgrade from her infant little nook to something more suited for Estella. He’d moved the rocking chair to the opposite corner of their room, bringing instead a delicate light pink cotton canopy to take its place. The canopy was spacious, but didn’t take more room than the old rocking chair used to. Instead, it enclosed perfectly that corner of their room they called _Estella’s_. He’d made it into the perfect little spot for her to play and read when they were just hanging in their room.

Killian had used fairy lights to frame the canopy, which Estella had loved. She would sit and stare at night for minutes and minutes which was almost a miracle considering how hard it was for their daughter to stay still. Inside he’d let Estella keep layers and layers of blankets, a few pillows, some of her favorite stuffed animals, and of course a handful of books.

Killian guessed this particular morning she’d tried ‘ _reading’_ a bunch of them as at least six or seven open baby books laid next to Estella as she slept on the floor.

“I woke up this morning, and she was just here,”

Emma’s eyes went wide at that one —as far as she knew, Estella hadn’t figured out how to climb out of her crib _yet_. She guessed that was something of the past now, as Estella had made her merry way to their room and her little nook all by herself.

“I thought about taking her back to her room, but…I didn’t want to wake her, love,”

Emma smiled at him at those words and nodded. She looked at Estella again, messy blonde hair sprawled everywhere as she slept so peacefully on her belly. Little butt up in the air, with her little chubby legs tucked under it. She looked adorable.

“It’s okay,” She told Killian then. She turned to him, and sunk on the bed enough so that she could kiss him good morning. She closed her eyes, breathing in deeply, and smiling when he huffed a small laugh against her.

“Morning love,” He whispered huskily, making Emma smile against his lips.

“Hey,” She said back softly, kissing one more time his inviting lips. With a sigh, she pulled back after a moment, arching her head to look at Estella again. “I can’t believe she’s still sleeping, but…” Her voice trailed off, her eyes shifting back to Killian. “But I’ll take it.”

Killian nodded, diligently, goofy smile on his face. It made Emma smile even brighter than she already was. She grabbed his jaw then with her hand, and after matching that perfect grin of his with one of her own, she moved closer, brushing her lips to his. His lips were so warm, soft, and wet against hers. It gave her such a sense of peace and tranquility to be able to start the day like this, with him.

Killian was holding her to him now too, his hand on her waist pressing Emma to him just so. It was heaven. “How did you sleep?” He asked her softly.

“Good,” Emma drawled out, eyes steady on Killian’s. “You?”

“Perfect,” He replied, stealing another kiss. “I’ll go fetch us some coffee in a bit,” He said, making Emma grin.

“Okay,” Emma closed her eyes again for a moment —just breathing. Next she knew, Killian’s tender hand was on her face, fingertips softly on her cheek, her jaw, then up tracing the lines by her eyes. Her nose crinkled, and she chuckled when he touched a ticklish spot. “Pancakes today would be great,” She whispered playfully at him.

Killian fixed his eyes on her, eyebrows wiggling in that way she loved. “Panc—” He started, but before he could tell her about his pancakes abilities, Henry came rushing into the room startling them both.

Emma pulled the covers up to her neck out of mere instinct as she sat up and watched her son panting by the door. “Mom! Killian!” He called, almost out of breath. “ _God_! Mom, Estella’s not in her ro—”

“Shush!” Both Killian and Emma whispered at him simultaneously.

Henry frowned immediately, shaking his head. His eyes wide and confused. “ _Estella. Is. Not. In. Her. Room_.” He whispered back exasperated —stressing every word.

“Henry,” Emma said then, pointing toward Estella’s little nook.

“Oh,” Henry let out as soon as his eyes caught sight of his baby sister. “She’s here,”

“Aye lad,” Killian agreed simply. He smirked playfully the instant Henry’s eyes landed on him. “She’s all right,”

Henry nodded, a confused frown still on his face. “Why is she here?”

“We woke up, she was here,” Emma explained.

“Oh,” Henry said, before letting out a long breath. He finally felt as though he could relax. He’d woken up to a quiet house Sunday morning —there wasn’t strangest thing as that as of late. “Ah, well,” He said after a beat. “I’m glad she’s okay, I got scared there for a minute,” He admitted, and again Emma and Killian were reminded what an amazing big brother Henry was.

Killian smiled at the boy before pulling the covers back and slipping out of bed. He watched Estella softly with a smile on his face, before turning to look at Henry again. “You want to produce breakfast while your mum and Estella sleep in a bit more?” He asked. “I’m thinking pancakes,”

Emma chuckled at that, but still shook her head, looking back and forth between Killian and Henry. “No wait, I can help too,”

“Sure you can mom,” Henry spoke then, smiling knowingly in her direction. “But Killian and I can handle it,”

“Aye, love…” Said Killian ever so helpful as always.

Before Emma could argue though, Henry was speaking again. “Plus, someone needs to keep an eye on Estella,” He said. “We’ll come get you both when it’s ready mom,”

Emma shared a look with both her boys before just sighing. “Fine,” She agreed as the two of them walked out the door with matching grins.

Emma grinned too, mostly to herself as she sunk back on the bed for a few more minutes. She really wasn’t sleepy anymore, which truly was a first ever since Estella had been born. She liked the feeling though —maybe this was how a normal family looked like. Kids getting into her room in the middle of the night, crashing anywhere simply knowing they were safe close to her parents. Her husband and son prepping breakfast together. Lazy Sunday mornings in which the greatest treat wasn’t sleeping in but waking up to a family of her very own.

Eventually Emma slipped out of the bed too, and walked to the window opening the curtains just enough to look out. The day looked lovely, beautiful blue skies, the sun burning high, making her blink slowly as her eyes adjusted. When she turned around, stretching her arms up in the air, Emma caught a glance of Estella as her little girl was just now waking up too. She was making little grunty noises, stretching her chubby legs and arms. Emma knelt on the carpet right by Estella’s canopy and just waited out until Estella finished willing herself awake. The baby held onto her pink blanket as she flipped onto her side, and sleepily started blinking. Emma was smiling at her the second Estella’s eyes landed on hers. “ _Mum,”_ Estella grinned, dabbing on her sleepy eyes.

Emma let out a soft chuckle and nodded at her daughter. “Hi baby,” She cooed, reaching out and scooping up Estella in her arms. “Morning ducky,”

Estella didn’t answer but snuggled deeply into her mom’s embrace. “Daddy’s downstairs,” And with just _that,_ Estella’s face lit up as though Emma had offered the baby a tray full of cupcakes just for herself. It warmed her heart so much. “And Henry,” She added, bopping Estella’s tiny button nose with her finger. The baby wrinkled her nose and giggled. “Wanna go see them?” Emma asked.

Estella didn’t waste any time considering the question, instead, with another giggle she jumped right off Emma’s lap. Holding onto her baby blanket with one hand and her mom’s hand on the other, she started marching in the direction of the door.

Emma chuckled as she followed her baby girl down the hallway and toward their boys. Estella reached up her little arms when they reached the stairs, and with a big smile on her face, Emma scooped her up and held her close to her chest. Estella for some reason still didn’t like trying to walk down the stairs, so they always had to carry her. As soon as they made it to the first floor though, Estella was wiggling herself off Emma’s arms and moving as fast as her little legs would take her to the kitchen. It was precious. As simple as that.  

When Emma walked into the kitchen, both boys were doting on Estella, cooing at her and kissing her good morning as though she were their whole world. And _that_ , just that kind of love, was everything Emma always wished for her children.

Estella was the first one who noticed Emma in the kitchen, and with a huge smile on her face, the baby babbled at her nonstop for a few moments.

It made them all erupt in laughter and yet again Emma’s heart felt so full and happy this morning.

“I believe what Estella meant to say was, breakfast is ready Swan,”

Emma shared a sweet look with Killian before nodding and just sitting on one of the kitchen’s stools. “Well, let’s have at it…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idek, I hope you enjoy the fluff, because fluffy fluffiness was all I could muster for this au week! :)


	3. li'l brother

When Emma came upstairs looking for Estella, she found the little girl in their room. Estella’s little form was sitting on the rocking chair opposite her little nook. She looked up over at Emma when she walked in the room, but she still didn’t say anything.

Emma looked at the child curiously for a little bit; the way her tiny brow was furrowed in concentration —or was it in worry?

“You okay li’l bean?”

From her spot on the rocking chair, Estella nodded slowly. “I’m kay,” she said simply, bouncing her skinny legs back and forth on the chair.

Estella wasn’t an especially quiet child —she was gabby and a little too chatty and outgoing for a child of hers. At least that was what Emma would think sometimes.

Every time she did though, she’d remember Henry. When he was younger and would talk her ear off at every chance he got. Estella was a lot like him in that sense —she was still so innocent, and believed everything around her was good still.

Emma thought about that a lot sometimes —most times late at night when sleep was being an elusive little shit. She wished her daughter to stay like this —if not forever, for as long as she could ensure it. Before Estella was born, Emma hadn’t known — _at all_ — if she was going to read her child fairytales.

It seemed so silly now, how different she looked at those stories, when the reality of the matter was so different. When _they_ themselves were part of those folklore tales of princesses, princes, castles, wicked queens, and evil little old men trying to steal people’s babies. She’d thought she wouldn’t be able to read Estella a bedtime story without feeling like a hypocrite, but then…

Then Estella was born, and suddenly believing in the good of this world wasn’t so hard anymore. Estella was light; she was hope, she was the single most amazing testament of their future. Of everything they still had to look forward to. To the many happy times, milestones, and just _moments_ with that little girl.

Just like her own mother, Emma wanted her own daughter to always have hope —she wanted her to always believe in the possibility of a better tomorrow even in the darkest of days.

So in the end, she’d given in —she’d started reading her daughter fairytales, the ones she grew up with herself, and the very ones that retold their family’s history.

Estella was seven now and most certainly understood the differences. It was her normal though —she rarely thought of it as something other than just how her life and family was. It wasn’t _ordinary_ per se, she knew, but it wasn’t completely extraordinary either.

It was just the way things were here in Storybrooke.

Emma used that moment to finally walk into the roo. She smiled at her daughter before leaning down and dropping a sweet kiss to the child’s forehead. Estella smiled at Emma immediately —it was more of a reflex, and it made Emma smile herself. “You were so quiet, I thought I’d check on you,” Emma told Estella then, gesturing the kid to scooch over so that the two of them could sit on the rocking chair.

Estella moved over without thought, happily allowing her mom to snuggle her to her side. Emma was pregnant — _quite_ pregnant, so space was _tight_ on the rocking chair, but thankfully neither one of them minded. Not one bit.

“Am I gonna have to share it?”

Ah, so _that_ was what this was about. “Your little nook?” Emma asked the child needlessly, she already knew the answer to her question.

And sure enough, Estella nodded.

Emma shrugged a little. “No, no if you don’t want to, duckling,”

“You sure?” Her little voice came quick, but sounded so uncertain it almost broke Emma’s heart. It was then when she finally truly saw it, how very scared Estella was —so many things were changing, she wasn’t even sure what to expect anymore.

It made Emma feel bad, the tears springing to her eyes without her having a say, but she still knew better than to let her emotions get the better of her right now. This wasn’t about her, this was about Estella and about putting that sweet little child of hers back at ease.

 “I’m sure, Estella. That is _your_ little corner, he’s not gonna be allowed if you don’t want him too.”

Estella took a moment, letting Emma’s words sink in slowly, before letting out a breath. “Okay mummy,” she said, believing without question the words her mom told her.

It never stopped to amaze Emma, how easy this child trusted her. She would question her, sure, but never in the wary and suspicious way Emma was used to. Estella trusted her —fully, no reservations because why would she have any? She had a mom, and a dad, and a brother, and really an entire town who had cared for her even before she was born.

“Okay lil bean,” Emma said eventually, hugging the child to her side a little tighter. She rubbed her hand up and down Estella’s arm for a few moments, feeling Estella breathing steadily next to her in silence.

“Mum?”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe I can share my lil nook with him — _sometimes_ , if he’s a good baby,” she said then, her voice small, but certain all the same. It made Emma proud. “Like, I could make room for him sometimes, I could read him a story, or two if he wants to,”

Estella had already read the new babe tenths of stories actually —to her belly, but still, it counted nonetheless to Emma. “Of course. That sounds great, Estella,”

Estella smiled brightly at that. “I would like that,” she said then, her voice more enthusiastic this time. “I’d have to teach him to be careful, and put things away like Daddy told me, but maybe he _can_ be allowed.”

Her words made Emma beam —she wasn’t unfamiliar with the pride her children gave her, yet every single day it was because of something new and unexpected. Emma had worried so much about this new baby, so so very much. She loved Estella; _they_ loved Estella, more than anything. She was their little girl, and truly, their world spun around that tiny little girl.

Henry was fourteen when Estella was born, almost fifteen, and Emma had surely felt some variation of what she felt right now with Estella, yet…with Henry it had been so much easier to deal with this. He was so understanding —even back then. He’d taken the news in stride, and been just as happy about the new baby as they were.

Now Estella was only seven, and it scared Emma to think she would feel pushed aside by the new babe. She shouldn’t have been though, if only for the same reason Henry had been over the moon about having a sister —they had the sweetest, biggest heart in history and loving someone new —a sibling, no less —wasn’t hard work at all to them. Opening their heart wasn’t a hardship as it had been for Emma once upon a time. Her children were light and hope, and not a single bit malicious. It was all going to be okay.

Right now, with Estella in her arms, humming happily and stroking her belly and her baby brother, Emma knew she truly had had nothing to worry about.

“I love you Estella,”

Estella giggled at her words. “Silly mummy,” she said, grinning up at Emma, as she tenderly stroked her face. “I know that,” again a small giggle escaped her.

This time the tears in her eyes were happy tears, and Emma was sure of it. “I know you do, but just so you don’t ever forget, I love you to the moon and back, Estella Jones,”

This time Estella didn’t giggle, but simply nodded. “I love you, too mummy,” she promised sweetly. “To the moon and back, too!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had this little bit written for ages. I actually have quite a lot written that I just haven't felt like posting, I don't know why is that!
> 
> Still, I was re-reading this today, so I figured I might as well start sharing my fluffy little bits with y'all again already! I know this is short, but hopefully the sweetness is there and you guys like it! :)  
> Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

She’d been standing in front of her little nook for maybe ten minutes or so when her father walked into the room. Estella tilted her head looking at him, but didn’t speak. Neither did Killian at first, and instead just stood next to Estella. Hands on his hips matching his little girl’s pose.

Estella felt oddly emotional, kind of like she was about to cry, although she didn’t especially understand why. She’d had that canopy since she was a baby, maybe a year old or something her parents had told her. She was sure she was old enough to get rid of the thing now, right? She was almost nine after all; of course she was old enough to not want this thing anymore.

It was not as if she even used it that much anymore, but for some reason it still felt wrong to just destroy  it —after all her little nook was something that had been there since the very day she came home from the hospital. She knew that because her father had told her that, so had mum, and even Henry.

But she was nine now —well, _almost nine,_ she was too old, and she didn’t want anything that made her feel like a baby, so her little nook had to go.

“It’s too babyish for me now, right?” Estella spoke eventually.

Killian looked at her, but didn’t know what to say. He shrugged. “I wouldn’t know,” he said, but given the grimace in Estella’s face, he guessed that was the wrong answer.

“Dad!”

Killian smiled anyway. Estella could say all she wanted that she wasn’t a baby anymore, but that didn’t mean he had to accept it. “I really don’t know, Estella —you, lass, are still my baby as far as I’m concerned,”

“I’m so not a baby,” and of course her tone was annoyed and accompanied by an eye roll —she was almost nine now, almost nine year olds were moody and rolled their eyes at their dads, right?

Killian knew better than to take her tone seriously though. Jolly as ever, he grinned, kneeling down to Estella’s eye level. Even at _almost_ nine, Estella was still impossibly short and tiny. “I know, I know, but you know what I mean, right?” He asked, playfully winking at her.

It made Estella sigh. “I guess,” she shrugged. “I don’t even come here anymore,”

“Oh, but you do,” Killian reminded her. Estella in turn, looked at him as if he were crazy. “Sometimes.” He added, and Estella shrugged again.

She came in here maybe _once_ in the last month, and that was only because her little brother was being extra loud downstairs playing pirate and she wanted to read in peace.

So yeah, _maybe_ she would miss her little nook if it were just gone. Not that she was going to tell that to her Dad right now, but it was true.

“Estella,”

“Um?” She mumbled, not looking away from her little nook.

Now it was Killian who rolled his eyes. “Estella,”

She moaned and did then what she called a ‘ _rainbow eye roll_ ’ before looking back at her father. She forced a fake grin on her face. “ _Pardon me?_ ”

Killian nodded at that one. It had been a much better response, and he was pleased —despite the eye roll. He still needed to work on that with Estella, although he was sure that was a trait she’d inherited from her mother. In any case, that wasn’t the point right now. “I’m thinking your problem is not so much your nook, but the tent, am I right?”

Estella’s annoyed façade faded at his question —yeah, it was actually something like that. “Maybe?”

Killian grinned —reading his daughter was certainly _slightly_ harder than reading her mother, but not impossible by any means. “So what do you say if we just get rid of the pink canopy? We can get you some other kind of furniture. Be a good lass, I’ll allow you to help mum pick it.” Because of course he wasn’t going to put just any old piece of furniture in _their_ bedroom just to please Estella. He would absolutely please his little girl, _but_ with her mother’s seal of approval of course.

“But like what Daddy?”

Ah, _Daddy —_ Estella was almost nine now, so she’d gotten into her head calling him _Daddy_ all the time wasn’t cool anymore. But still, from time to time it would slip, and Killian could only let the warm fuzzy feeling of his little girl calling him _that,_ wash over him. Also smile. Smile hugely because being a _Daddy_ to her was certainly a blessing he never took for granted.

“Um, I’m not certain; we could just get you a cozy settee?” Estella’s nose scrunched at that option. “Okay, not a sofa, how about…we build you up some sort of pew here in your corner? By the window? You can keep your pillows and blankets to keep it comfy, and we can use the bottom to stack your books neatly?”

Estella was actually considering that option, which was as good news as any. “So it’ll be more of just a reading nook now?”

Killian shrugged lightly one shoulder at that. “Well, it’ll be _Estella’s_ reading nook,” he said grinning at his little girl.

And she seemingly liked the idea because immediately at his words an actual smile made it to her face. “You like the idea, little love?”

“I think so,” she answered thoughtfully, her little finger taping her nose. “I can give baby brother all the books I don’t read anymore, and only bring my newer ones here, right? And the ones I get from the library?”

“Aye,” Killian agreed, smiling. “You have to keep your nook tidy, as always, but if you want to, we can make it happen, love,”

“Should we ask mum?”

Killian took a minute, thinking about it, and then nodded. “Aye, but she’ll agree, love, you’ll see. She was actually a little sad you wanted to get rid of…this,” he said, gesturing to Estella’s nook and her tent.

“Really?”

“Aye,” he answered, nodding. “We like having you here, you know?”

Estella smiled at that. “I know,” she said with a nod. Her face fell after a moment though. “Mum gets to cuddle Oliver now though,” she mumbled then, gesturing to the rocking chair across the room.

Killian followed her eyes to the rocking chair, and just shrugged. “Ah well, she’ll cuddle you too if you’d let us,” he pointed out, before laughing and scooping up Estella from the floor. Yes, she was nine but she was still the tiniest little thing and carrying her around was nothing. Estella started letting out silly giggles as her father tickled her and kissed her cheeks over and over.

“Dad! Daddy, stop!”

“Uh, uh,” he said, not slowing down his tickle attack at all. And instead moving Estella to the bed in the center of the room, and watching her squirm like a little crazy duckling at his tickles.

“I wasn’t ready Daddy! That’s _bad form_!”

“Aye, aye, aye…” Killian stopped —she had a point, and instead dropped himself on the bed next to Estella who was panting hard, sprawled on the bed. She didn’t hesitate to curl up closer to her father, and let him wrap his arm about her. So yeah, she wasn’t nearly as cuddly as her baby brother was, but from time to time, she didn’t absolutely hate it either.

Killian could still feel her breathing heavily next to him. Her little heart was still racing and it made him chuckle. “You okay there love?”

“Yeah,” Estella replied, still panting, “Just out of breath, that was fun,”

And of course her words warmed his heart. Killian used his arm to pull her up a little and kissing her head. “It was,”

Estella hugged him tightly and as best as her short arms allowed her, before propping herself on her elbows and looking at him. “Thank you, Dad,”

“You are welcome duckling,”

The nickname made her chuckle and she ducked her head, resting her cheek back on her father’s chest.

She was breathing deeply, steadily now. For a little while, they didn’t speak, but Killian simply held her to him.

“I don’t think you’ve let me cuddle you this long in years,”

“Not true,”

“Yes true, little love,”

“Uh, uh,” Estella insisted, but then caught that look her father was giving her. Okay, fine, he was right, but still… “Well, mummy cuddles Oliver, you can cuddle _me,_ ”

Killian frowned at that, and sat up bringing Estella up with him too. “All right, that’s the second time you’ve mentioned your mom cuddling the babe, is something bothering you Estella?”

“No,” she answered, and was about to get up before Killian sat her back on the bed.

Estella didn’t fight him, but didn’t look at him exactly either.

“Estella,”

Suddenly Estella didn’t even know what to do—or what to feel. She felt tears in her eyes and her heart beating way too fast in her chest. She didn’t get it, she didn’t like it, she wanted it to stop, to make herself stop feeling like this, but it wasn’t easy.

Seconds passed, one moment she was perfectly content in her dad’s arms, the next one she was pretty much losing it before him and he had no clue what was wrong with his daughter. She started crying, shaking, her little eyes filled with sad tears and Killian had not a clue why. For someone who claimed to be as perceptive as he thought he was, he felt at a complete loss right now with Estella. “Oh sweetheart,” he cooed, but instead of helping, it seemingly made Estella start crying harder.

Oh bloody hell! He didn’t even try to soothe Estella with words then, but Killian just pulled her into his arms and held on to her as Estella covered her face with her hands and shook all over.

It was a few moments later that between sobs and tears she tried speaking. “I didn’t want mummy to stop loving me.”

“What?” Killian surely must have heard that wrong, right? “What are you talking about, love?”

Estella sniffled, shaking her head against Killian. “Mum and I fought the other day, you ‘member?”

“You two talked,” he said, stressing the word _talked._ Yeah, they’ve had a bit of an argument, but he could hardly call it fighting.

“Uh, uh, mummy was upset,”

That was true. “Yeah, well, you were shouting Estella,”

Estella’s face contorted at that. “I know,” she cried, wiping at her eyes angrily. “But I told her I was sorry,”

“And she apologized too, didn’t she little love?”

“Yes, but…”

“But what, baby?”

“I’m _not_ a baby _!”_

Ah, there was that ire she’d let out the other day with Emma, too. “Aye, that’s what you told mum that day too. That you’re older now,”

“But I didn’t want her to stop loving me, Daddy,” she confessed then, her voice shaky, and sad. “She’s different now,”

“Sweetheart,” he said, bringing Estella onto his lap and watching her closely. “Your mum loves you more than life itself. That’s not up for discussion,”

Estella shook her head.

Killian sighed. “I think mum’s just trying to do what you asked her love —she’s trying not to baby you, wasn’t that what you wanted?”

“I didn’t know I’ll mean she’d never love me again,”

“You can’t think that,”

“Why not? It’s the truth,” Estella replied stubbornly. “She has Oliver now, so she doesn’t need me, right?”

“Estella—” that was just _not right_ so Killian was forced to use his Dad voice —the rather stern one he truly only rarely used with Estella. “I love you, love, but you couldn’t be more mistaken. Mum loves you _both_ — _very much_.” If anything Emma had been trying to give Estella her space —the child had gotten quite upset the other day, arguing Emma treated her like a baby, so these past few days, Emma truly had been doing what they thought Estella needed —them to back off a little, and let her be.

“Nothing’s ever gonna change how much she loves you —how much we both do. No matter how mad you get and tell her you don’t want it.”

Estella was frowning now, almost glaring at Killian, but at least her sobs had died down. She was making herself breathe deeply, so for a few moments Killian simply allowed her to do as much.

Eventually, when he did speak, he used a softer, almost soothing tone. “You know before Oliver was born, your mum was petrified about _this,_ ”

“Um?”

“She was afraid you were going to feel pushed aside by the baby, she didn’t want that to happen, and I’m fairly surprised it’s happening now.” Especially because the baby was a little over two years old now, and Estella truly did love that child with all her being.

“Mum’s not afraid of anything —she never is,”

“Well, she was then.” And it’d kill her now if she knew this was how Estella had been feeling these last few days since their talk ( _fight_ )

“You think we should call mum? I think you two need to talk—”

“No!”

“Estella,”

“No! I don’t want mum to hate me more!”

“Oh love,” Killian hugged her as Estella started crying softly again. When she calmed a little, he started again. “What did you mean when you said mum was different now?”

“Mum’s sweet, almost soppy sometimes, she’s always asking questions and talking and…and…she’s not been like that —not with me,”

Killian looked at the child sadly as she spoke. “Is this why you decided to get rid of your little nook?”

Estella was looking down, but nodded her head after a beat.

“You wanted mum to tell you not to do it?”

It took a moment, but in the end, she sighed and nodded at his words. He was her father, of course he was right. “But she didn’t say anything, she _let me_.” She shrugged, sadly looking up at Killian. She fell right into him then, and let her father hug her. “At least _you_ care,” she mumbled after a moment, breaking his heart.

It was an option before, it wasn’t anymore, they _needed_ to talk to her mother. “When mum comes home tonight, we—”

“No DADDY! PLEASE NO!”

“Estella, sweetheart,” Killian tried again, softly. “How about I show you then?”

Estella just looked at him.

“We don’t have to tell mum you’re upset — _yet_ , but what if I prove to you how much she loves you and how much she never ever stopped?”

“How?”

“I have my ways, little love, you know this,”

“How?”

He sighed —willing himself to think fast of a way to fix this for Estella…and Emma. “Tonight, at dinnertime, stand close to mummy when she’s helping prep the food or drinks. Just stand there close to her. I assure you love she _is_ going to hug or kiss you if she just sees you standing close by. She’s not even gonna think about it, she’s just going to do it because she loves you so much and loving on you is just what she does —what we both do,”

Estella didn’t look convinced.

“I promise you mum will pull you to her side, and _try_ to cuddle you, she misses it, you know?”

Estella frowned.

“When you were little, she would spend hours and hours at the time holding you love, she’s loved you so so much from the very minute you came, sweetheart,”

“I don’t know, Daddy…” What if they were making things worse doing all this? “Are we lying to mum?”

Killian scratched his ear; she sure had a point there. “We are keeping a secret from her, aye,” but it was for the greater good, he thought. “We don’t have to; we can just talk to her—”

“No, I’ll do what you said,” she said quickly, wiping her eyes. “But what if it doesn’t work? What if she really doesn’t love me?”

“Estella,”

“What?”

He gave her a simple look.

She sighed. “Pardon?” He’d always told her how ‘ _manners don’t stop just because you are upset, duckling’_ , and so, in spite of everything, Estella knew to at least try to be polite.

Killian knew she wasn’t going to like what he had to say all that much, but still. “That’s rubbish, lass,” he said, and allowed himself to smile at last —he didn’t want to just dismiss his daughter’s fears but to say Emma could not love _Estella,_ of all people, was as outrageous as saying _he_ could not love Emma Swan. Complete and utter rubbish. “Mum adores you and she always will,”

“And you?”

“I too, of course —you are our little princess sweetheart, that’s never going to change,”

Estella finally smiled a little at that. “Also a little pirate, I’m _both,_ Daddy, don’t forget.”

“Never could Estella, never could…”

x

Despite Killian’s best intentions, dinnertime had been a disaster. He’d hoped they could easily put today to rest showing Estella how much her mum loved her. Instead, what had happened was Estella ending up in tears again, running up the stairs with her little heart breaking even more.

Killian hadn’t had time to speak privately with Emma before dinner. She’d come home after work and they started on dinner together —as a family. Like always.

Killian meant to talk to her, tell her to be extra cuddly with Estella and that he’d explain everything tonight, but he’d never gotten the chance. Oliver was being extra clingy, whining until Emma just grabbed him from Killian and held him while prepping dinner.

Estella had listened to him and followed his instructions, which made Killian feel even worse about this whole thing. Estella had done everything he’d told her, she stood close to Emma, she sat by her, she did all that hoping her mum would show her just a little that she loved her.

Which of course Emma did, but Estella didn’t know it.

Estella hadn’t been able to tell, but Killian had. He’d seen Emma physically stopping herself from hugging Estella. She’d greeted the kid with a hug and a kiss, but she’d stopped herself every other time she’d wanted to drop a kiss to her head, or hug her.

Killian had noticed everything, but Estella hadn’t. Instead she’d felt the rejection she thought her mum was giving her, and now everything was just screwed up.

After Estella stormed out sobbing, Killian used a hand on Emma’s elbow, keeping her from following after the child just yet. He needed to explain. And so he did then. He told Emma everything that had happened that day. Everything from why Estella wanted to destroy her little nook, what they had talked about early in the day, to just why Estella had been so devastated tonight when Emma didn’t hug her once.

“Emma, you know she—“

“You wanna know something?” Emma spoke, finally feeling as though she could form words without her voice breaking.

“Aye, what love?”

“Henry was about her age, just a little bit older when he came to find me in Boston,”

Killian didn’t know what this had to do with anything, but still…“All right…”

“Do you know why he came to find me?”

“Ah, well, the curse, you—“

“No —I mean, yeah, but no…” Emma said, shaking her head. “He came to _me_ , because he was unhappy here in Storybrooke with Regina. He thought she _hated_ him and he ran away. And now  —now _Estella_ has been thinking for days that I do —she thinks that _I hate her,”_

“We know that’s not true, love,”

“It doesn’t really matter that we do, Killian, _she_ doesn’t…”

“Emma,”

Suddenly Emma was crying too —the tears just falling to her face. Killian wanted nothing more but to stop them, bring Estella downstairs again, talk things out, and make everything better again, but he knew it wasn’t as easy as that.

He sighed, taking Emma’s hand into his own from across the table. She accepted it, which surprised Killian slightly, but she still looked overly sad. “Don’t get me wrong, I-I wish I were wrong too,”

And with that she just got up, and started walking up the stairs.

Killian’s eyes shifted to the baby in the high chair. Oliver was using two spoons to feed himself, completely oblivious of everything that was happening. Killian smiled sadly at him. “Estella’s stubborn like Mummy, but if anyone can get through her right now, that’s your mum, so don’t you worry lad,” he said the words aloud, more so for his sake, than the baby’s.

Oliver looked serious at his words, before just tilting his head, and dropping one of his spoons. He used his thumb and index finger to grab a single pea from his tray, smiling widely up at Killian when he managed to do it in one try. Recognizing the scenario immediately, Killian leaned in and gladly accepted the pea his son happily put in his mouth. “Thank you little lad,”

x

“Estella,”

She was in bed, lying on her side, her back to Emma.

Emma sat on the bed, and slowly started running a hand over Estella’s back. Estella wasn’t especially feeling the cuddling mood, so she squirmed, shaking Emma’s hand off of her, and pushing herself away from her.

Emma sighed, sitting back against the headboard, and for a little while, they stayed quiet.

Until Estella spoke, “I want _Dad_ ,”

“Yeah well…” Emma answered, her tone flat and… _sad_. “That may be, but you get _me_ instead right now,”

Somewhat angrily, Estella flipped on her back at that, and stared up at Emma with misty blue eyes. A few tears had fallen to her face, a couple trailing almost into her mouth. It reminded Emma that one time Estella had hit her head when she was two or something. She’d cried inconsolably for what felt ages. She’d eventually tasted accidentally some of those tears she’d cried though, and suddenly the tears and wailing had stopped. _“They taste salty! Yuck!”_ She’d said, wiping her face hastily and then moving on as if nothing had happened.

If only Emma could do something of that sort right now to make her feel better.

_This_ was one of those moments Emma wished her daughter never had to go through. Her childhood was to be different, not like hers, or Killian’s, or even Henry’s. Estella was supposed to never ever feel unloved. To always feel wanted and treasured. Emma had that one job, but given all that glaring evidence in her daughter’s tears, she had very well failed and she knew it.

It didn’t even matter how many times she told Estella that she was wrong, and Emma loved her more than anything else in this world, Estella _felt_ unloved and that was just so fucked up.

Emma didn’t even realize how much _she_ was crying again, until Estella lifted her little hand up to Emma’s face and tried to wipe at the tears on her face.

Emma grabbed Estella’s hand into her own, holding it gently. She looked at her child softly for all of a few seconds before simply reaching out for her, hugging her close to her chest. Estella’s head rested on that perfect spot on her shoulder and for a few seconds Emma almost believed her daughter hadn’t had the horrible day she had.

She rubbed small lazy circles over Estella’s back for a few moments; breathing in deeply hoping the closeness could maybe help them both a little.

“You know why we named you _Estella_?”

Estella pulled back from Emma at her words, her pouty lips pursing as she thought about it. “The stars,” she said quietly. “They guide Daddy at night when he’s on the Jolly; they bring him home; he says I’m a little like that —only,”

“–Only not only at night, or just on the Jolly, but _always_ …” Emma finished for Estella.

Estella had heard quite a bit different variations of this story over the years, but it always came down to the same —Estella was _their_ guiding gleam of light. The tiny strike of white light that came into their lives, shinning onto everything they were and making them better. _So much better._

 “I’m sorry, mum,”

“Why are _you_ apologizing?” There was not a single reason Emma could think for Estella to be apologizing, but she was still curious about her child’s train of thought.

Estella shrugged. Her mom was crying because of _her,_ she’d been rude and nasty early, she’d shouted at her mere days before, she hadn’t been a good kid. Not the kind of kid her mom loved …or, used to love anyway. She sniffled, trying hard to control the brand new tears that were threatening to fall from her eyes again.

“I heard what you told Grandma the other day,”

“What’s that?” Emma asked, not really catching what Estella said —her voice had been so soft and shaky.

Ever so gently, Emma guided Estella’s chin up, aligning their eyes. She nodded slightly at her little girl, encouraging her to trust her and confide in her —despite everything.

“The other day, you and Grandma were talking,” this time her voice still came small, but slightly firmer which helped. “You said, _well, maybe I should just stop babying her for once and for all. God knows she’s a big kid, she can take it,”_

Emma had to think back hard to when that conversation had taken place. It had been over the weekend; Snow had been over, and they had a small chat in the kitchen after dinner. Nobody was supposed to be overhearing their talk. Emma smiled sadly at Estella —so _that_ conversation had been what brought this whole new _big kid_ attitude Estella had been trying so hard to pull off all week.

“What have we always told you about eavesdropping?”

“Not to do it?” Estella replied uneasily.

“We tell you that for a reason, Estella,”

“I’m sorry,”

“Stop that, don’t —I don’t want you to apologize,”

“Okay,” Estella sniffled, reaching to hold onto her mum’s hands once more.

“You know Grandma and I, we weren’t talking about _you_ ,”

Estella frowned at that —their family was a big troop, there was no way to deny that, but besides Robin, Estella was the only girl —certainly the only girl her mom would feel the need to stop _babying._

“We were talking about Regina,”

Wait, what? “Aunt Regina? Wha–why? What?”

Emma sighed. “See Estella,” she let out a breath. “Every now and then Regina still forgets that bad things happen, and that it’s not okay to blame it on your mama,” Estella was obviously confused, but Emma didn’t have the mind to try to explain Regina any better right now. She was far more concerned about Estella and what was going through her little head. “That conversation you overheard, it had _nothing_ to do with you, kid.” She promised. “Never did.”

She was telling the truth —that much Estella knew for sure. She breathed a little easier now. “I didn’t wanna destroy my little nook,” she confessed then too.

“I know,” Emma replied, tenderly smoothing Estella’s wavy blonde hair back. “Daddy told me,”

“I just didn’t want you thinking I was a baby —I wanted to show you I could be a big girl,”

“Oh kid,” Emma’s fingers trailed delicately down Estella’s soft sweet skin. She smiled sadly at her child. “You _are_ a big girl; you are responsible, and _so smart_ and brave. You stand up for yourself, your baby brother… mom and Daddy sometimes too,” Emma reminded her. “But that doesn’t mean that you aren’t always going to be our baby girl —you always will…We love you so much Estella; nothing you ever do is going to change that.”

Emma bit the inside of her mouth in hopes to keep her very own tears from falling again. She swallowed hard; cupping Estella’s little face into her hands. “You don’t have to get rid of the things you love just because you think you _have to —_ or someone else wants you to. If you think you’ve outgrown your little nook, then be my guest Estella, pack it up, but don’t do it because you feel that’s what we expect you to do because you are  nine, or ten, or whatever age…”

Estella swallowed at that, and just thought about it for a little while.

“I should have told you all this earlier this week when you first said you wanted to destroy it.” Emma had seen the tears in her kid’s eyes, how much she didn’t want to do it, but she’d also heard her shouting at her that she wasn’t a baby anymore the day before.

“Why didn’t you?”

Emma shrugged a little. “Cuz even mom doesn’t know everything. I thought I was doing what you wanted Estella. I thought I was trusting your instincts, but I shouldn’t have ignored mine either.” Letting go of her face, Emma pulled Estella to her side instead. Her arms tight around her small frame. “You are a very smart little girl, but I’m still your mama and I should have remembered that.”

“You _are_ my mum,”

“That I am Estella,” Emma said nodding. “That’s never going to change kid. Ever.”

“What if I get old and shout again?”

A little chuckle escaped Emma. “Then I’ll scold ya,” she told her kid easily then. “As I should have when you did shout at me the other day —but you know why I didn’t do it?”

Estella simply stared at her —she honestly didn’t know.

“I was afraid,”

“Of what?”

“Of pushing you away, Estella.” Which was exactly what ended up happening, but Emma didn’t have eyes on the future, she hadn’t known then. “I figured, fine, I’ll give her what she wants, maybe she won’t hate me if I do,”

“You thought _I_ hated you?”

Emma simply nodded in response.

“I don’t mummy!”

“I know that, Estella.”

“You didn’t hug me cause you thought I didn’t want hugs?”

“I thought you didn’t want _mom’s_ hugs. I thought they’ll make you feel like a baby,”

“They do —sometimes,” Estella confessed. “But I don’t care; I love you, mum,”

“I love _you,”_ she promised back, smiling as Estella pretty much jumped on her lap then, wrapping her arms tightly around her.

They hugged for a few minutes, mostly in silence. Only Emma occasionally making a humming noise as she slowly rocked Estella in her arms.

It wasn’t until Estella’s little belly rumbled loudly that she chuckled, and asked, “You’re hungry?”

Estella nodded against her shoulder.

“How about we go and feed you something. It’s Friday so we can watch a movie with Daddy if you want to afterwards?” All Emma wanted was to hold her kid in her arms for at least two uninterrupted hours, and movie night would allow her that.

“Okay, but…”

“Yeah?”

“Can we stay here for a little bit more?”

“Yeah,” Emma replied without thought. She cuddled Estella snugly in her arms, and kissed her temple. “I missed this too, you know?”

Estella nodded, burying her head closer to Emma. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,”

“Did you or Daddy hold me more when I was a baby?”

Emma was so glad to hear Estella’s question —especially the lightness with which it came. There was not a bit of sadness in her words, and her little face, while still a little puffy from crying earlier, was shining completely with one of Estella’s perfect smiles.

“Daddy, definitely your Dad,”

It made Estella chuckle and the sound was so precious and familiar it almost brought a new wave of tears to Emma’s eyes.

“Why?”

“Cause, he loves you ducky,” Emma answered easily. “He’d find every excuse in the world to just keep you in his arms. I’d have to almost snatch you from him every time _I_ wanted to hold you. He’s a baby hog, we all know that.” It had been the same with baby brother, when he was smaller.

Estella again chuckled, her little body shaking against Emma’s.

“I’ll get the best cuddles when you were very little though…”

“Why?”

“Because,” Emma shrugged. “I was the only one who fed you at the very beginning, and you did love to eat, so I always got to cuddle you when you ate, and then afterwards for as long as I could before Daddy needed a turn,”

“That’s funny,”

“It’s the truth,” Emma smiled. “Daddy making your little corner in our room has been one his best ideas yet,”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, Estella.” She wasn’t even just saying that to make Estella happy —it was the truth. “You’d just crawl out of your crib and end up there when you were Oliver’s age. During the weekends, we would always find you sleeping there, and you were just so good. You would listen to Daddy every time he reminded you just how to keep your books organized. You’d fold your blankets one by one, and pile them neatly just how he taught you to do it. You’d make room for us in there when you wanted company, or you’d use pillows to block us out when you wanted to be on your own. You have the sweetest heart Estella, and you’ve shared it with us ever since you were born baby girl…”

Estella smiled, her nose wrinkling when Emma bopped it then with her finger.

“Thank you for choosing us, Estella.”

It made her chuckle a little. “Thank you for _making_ _me_ , mummy,”

And _that,_ made Emma chuckle too. She leaned down then; peppering kisses all over Estella’s little face. God, she’d really _really_ missed her.

“I’m ready to eat now mum,”

Of course.

Emma gently put Estella down on the floor as she too got up, smiling when Estella reached out for her hand. They walked hand in hand all the way to the doorway, until Emma stopped walking, and instead kneeled in front of her daughter. “I love you,”

“I love you, too.” Estella said without thinking. She smiled a perfectly happy smile then. “And I trust you,” she added, using her soft little hands to touch Emma’s face tenderly. “And I don’t hate you, and I know you don’t hate me either.”

It meant everything to hear her say that. Emma nodded and kissed her forehead.

“Can we watch _Peter Pan_ when Ollie goes to bed?”

And just like that Emma was forgiven and her daughter was back —she still felt guilty about today, about the thoughts that crossed her daughter’s mind, but if Estella could hug and forgive, then Emma could at least try to do the same with herself. “Sure thing, Estella, but let’s go feed you something first sweet girl…”

 

* * *

 

Killian’s smile when he watched both girls walking back into the kitchen, hands joined and swinging, was by far the biggest smile he’d smiled all week. He smiled at the girls, especially at Emma who was searching for his eyes, but then before he could stop himself, his smile shifted into a smirk, and he turned to the baby still happily munching on food in his high chair. “See, I told you mum would fix this,”

He hadn’t been quiet enough and Emma of course heard him, but that was okay because the next time he met her eyes, she was grinning. She _had_ fixed it alright.


End file.
